


The Set-Up

by newtypeshadow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes is a menace, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, How To Fail At Seduction Despite Really Trying, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Polyamory, Tags Contain Spoilers, Voyeurism, and WinterIron want him to stop being a good bro, and come participate, even though he'd love to participate, in that Steve tries to be a good bro and avoid being a voyeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: Steve was deep in the closet.Specifically: Bucky and Tony's closet.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 192
Collections: Stuckony Love Letters





	The Set-Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd) in the [Stuckony_server_love_letters](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Stuckony_server_love_letters) collection. 



> This was written for [swtalmd](/users/swtalmd)'s Stuckony Love Letters stocking, which contained the following prompt:
>
>> Courtship of some kind, either ABO or some kind of formal AU where there's a reason the boys need to go through a courtship process, or, just character(s) choosing to woo the other(s). Secret Admirer also goes under this heading beautifully. Really, just someone being treated well by the others, or even some kind of hilarious three-way who's courting who thing.
> 
> Why can't I ever follow instructions? I hope you like it anyway. ^_^ 

Steve was deep in the closet.

Specifically: Bucky and Tony's closet.

It was so large it could've been another bedroom. There was plenty of room for Tony to lounge in a comfortably sexy sprawl whenever Steve stretched out on the cushioned benches dividing Tony's expansive wall of mirrors, hiding meticulously organized clothes, from Bucky's equally long wall of mirrors hiding considerably fewer clothes despite Tony's best efforts to buy him more. The inevitable result of such purchases was Bucky looking even more stunning than usual, and Steve's IQ leaking out his flushing ears whenever Bucky walked into a room.

Steve didn't usually hide in closets—real or metaphorical. But because he was the only person Bucky trusted enough to allow free rein of his living space unsupervised, Bucky had enlisted him to set up the adorably romantic scavenger hunt/elaborate puzzle game Bucky planned for Tony to do when they returned to the penthouse after their date.

Tony was going to love the scavenger hunt.

_If_ Steve could finish setting it up. And escape the penthouse undetected. All of which should've been _fine_.

But true to form, even the best-laid plan was incapable of surviving an encounter with Tony Stark. He'd come home early with Bucky, even though Bucky was _supposed_ to be keeping him out of the Tower until later this evening. And since the two had fumbled their way into their bedroom, kissing frantically and knocking into walls and the door Steve had just heard slam shut, Steve couldn't very well pop out, make some excuse, and leave without things getting awkward.

More awkward.

Steve felt like enough of a creep, lusting after his two best friends, without encroaching on their sex life.

Also, Tony would ask why Steve was on their floor, and then inevitably sniff out that Steve was hiding something, because Tony was as canny as Nat about sniffing out Steve's holdover Catholic guilt. Tony amiably interrogating Steve would lead to Bucky's surprise no longer being a surprise, and Steve ruining everything.

_If_ Tony saw him. Luckily, Bucky was a super-soldier with super-hearing and could fix the situation _that he broke_ by coming home early.

"Bucky," Steve hissed, "get him out of here! I'm not done setting up!"

There. Bucky would hear him and stop making those guttural moans that, along with Tony's purred dirty talk, were twisting up Steve's gut with want and making him hyperaware of his hammering heartbeat in his chest, ears, and under the traitorous tent in his slacks.

Steve tried to slow his excited breaths. Bucky was going to take care of this and carry Tony somewhere else—Bucky's tread was the only one Steve heard when they burst in—and Steve could either finish up while they…finished up…or just get the hell outta Dodge and return later, when Bucky was once again _doing his job_ and keeping Tony out of the Tower.

"Shh, baby," Bucky said—to Tony, sure, but definitely also to _Steve_ , which Steve quickly realized with a sinking heart and rising everything else. "Just hold still a little longer."

Steve heard a cap open, and then the soft, unmistakable sounds of fucking. Each steady thrust sounded obscenely wet and did things to Steve's insides.

Tony whined and called Bucky a list of colorful names Steve currently found distressingly accurate.

Steve sucked in a frustrated breath but couldn't tell whether he felt more turned on or pissed off. "You know I can hear you, right?" he bit out.

"I know. I know, honey," Bucky crooned in a voice that made Tony's breath shudder—and also Steve's. "You can take a little more."

"You're trying to kill me," Tony said, half giggle and half gasp, as the slick fucking sounds got faster.

"I'm going to kill you," Steve growled, unable to tune them out even with his hands over his ears, because he was _trying_ to be a good friend, and this was a wet dream situation except for the fact that neither of them wanted him or ever would, and hearing them fuck was an exquisite kind of torture.

Bucky just laughed—at both of them, the jerk.

Steve was revoking his best friend card.

In all honesty, Steve knew the awkwardness in these situations was solely his. Bucky knew he was here, and Tony was far too comfortable with Steve's tomato-red suffering at the many, _many_ instances he and Bucky decided beds were for other people, which always seemed to happen when Steve was the only other person around. Tony knew Steve had often heard them back when Bucky still lived on his floor, and had _seen_ them on his beelines to the elevator to give them privacy and pretend his heart and dick weren't both aching. Their unending honeymoon period had left the intoxicating scent of sex all over Steve's kitchen table, living room couch, favorite chair in the library, hallway wall, the door of his and Bucky's armory…

No, the two were shameless exhibitionists and didn't seem to care that Steve was in the same room when the smell of their arousal ratcheted up, and they moved from Public Displays of Affection to Public Displays of Fucking.

Only days ago, Steve had had to flee the gym because Bucky took Tony down on the mats and decided to stay there. Tony had winked at Steve as he hurried around the gym, red-faced, to put away all the gear he'd gotten out to do his regular workout—which they both damned well knew was in progress when they decided Krav Maga was Hebrew for "foreplay." Bucky had had the nerve to laugh at Steve and ask, "What's the rush?" He hadn't bothered waiting for an answer—too busy cramming Tony's dick down his throat with a pleasured expression that haunts Steve's guiltiest dreams.

A better friend would try to forget what they looked like, sounded like, smelled like having sex.

Even without the serum-enhanced memory, Steve was not a better friend.

Neither was Bucky, Steve decided when he heard soft buzzing start in the bedroom.

He knew what it was. Tony had been outspoken about his genius in giving Bucky's new arm vibrating fingers. Which Bucky demonstrated—in the air, not Tony, thank God—the morning after he got them. His sly grin and hooded gaze at the dazed look on Steve's face were so sexy Steve accidentally mangled the steel knife and fork he'd been holding.

But as uncomfortable as it made Steve—in ways good and bad—that his best friends got a kick out of flustering him, he couldn't bring himself to ask them to stop, despite knowing that they would.

Because the thing is, Steve had lost _everyone_. Peggy only remembered him sometimes, and every recognition made her cry because every time was the first time Steve returned to her alive. Everyone else Steve knew was dead. _Bucky_ was dead. Steve had mourned him every day for _years_.

And then Steve had found him, miraculously, and brought him home, amazingly, and watched him unfurl from a weapon back into a human being with feelings that mattered—and Tony helped him get there.

Tony, who Steve watched fall to his death during the Battle of New York. Watching was no easier from the ground than it had been from a speeding train on a mountain.

As Steve's friendship with Tony grew into something precious, it was mourning Bucky that taught Steve what he'd almost lost. There was very little he wouldn't do to keep Bucky and Tony alive and close and happy. And if that meant the constant, sweet ache of watching them be together and knowing he'd never be part of that, then Steve would take it, and every embarrassing public sex encounter, without complaint. He didn't want them to change for him, curtail their happiness for him. If they felt at home around him enough to…well… He was glad they trusted him enough to feel that way.

Even though that currently meant Steve was panting and hard as a rock, while, just an open closet door away, Tony's moans were spiraling higher and his vocabulary shrinking on an inverse incline. Steve collapsed onto the bench, hunched over his knees, and clenched his fists, then his hair, to keep them away from his dick. He was so turned on he was pretty sure just a touch would be enough to do him in, and if he came, it would be embarrassingly visible; the serum enhanced his virility, and there was a lot more come involved than there used to be. He was lucky precome hadn't soaked through his dampening briefs. 

"You close, baby?" Bucky purred.

Steve may have whimpered in response. He was getting desperate enough that pulling his dick out in Bucky and Tony's closet was starting to seem like a fine idea. What stopped him was knowing if he so much as breathed on it, he'd come in his pants.

"What gave me away?" Tony panted in the span of several breaths after an endorphin-fueled laugh.

"I can see you." There were kissing sounds, and then Bucky continued, voice husky, "And I can hear how fast you're breathing. And the sexy little sounds you make—some of 'em _you_ can't even hear. I can smell how hot you are for me. Smell your come leaking."

Steve felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. Bucky's voice should be illegal—what he was _saying_ should be illegal. Sound, scent? He was talking to Steve again, not just Tony. And Steve knew exactly what sub-aural noises Bucky was talking about. He, too, could hear the sexy, breathy curl of Tony's rhythmic huffs, keeping time with the slick glide of metal fingers.

The vibrating cut off.

Tony groaned, frustration evident even before he snapped, "Buck, _no_. Don't you _dare_."

Bucky chuckled in the sly way that always meant trouble. "Tony," he said, feigning disappointment the jerk definitely didn't feel, "be good for Steve—he's having a real hard time in the closet listening to how pretty you sound with my fingers in your ass."

Tony made a strangled gasping sound, groaned loudly, and the scent of come thickened the air. Something banged against the door. "Holy _fuck_ ," Tony panted. "Are you serious?"

Bucky let out a satisfied groan that melted into low chuckles that were probably at Steve's expense. The come scent got a lot stronger.

"Oh my God," Steve muttered, burying his face in his hands. At least mortification was cooling some of his ardor. Enough not to cream himself, anyway, despite the tantalizing scent of come that he could almost _taste_ —that he _wanted_ to taste.

"Let's go see how he's doing," Bucky said with dark glee.

Steve didn't bother standing or looking up at Bucky's approaching footsteps. "Buck, I love you," he said, voice clipped, "but I hope your affairs are in order."

"So?" Bucky asked softly—to Tony, then.

Steve still couldn't make himself look at them. There was no way Tony was fully dressed, and he always looked so soft and content whenever Steve ran into him right after he and Bucky had sex. That liquid contentment did things to Steve's heart. He was afraid he'd give himself away—more away, anyway—if he saw Tony like that now when Steve's every nerve ending felt raw.

"Good surprise," Tony said. "You know me _so_ well." There was a grin in his voice so familiar that Steve could see in his mind's eye. It did not make him less horny.

"I thought so," Bucky said with no hint of remorse. "Steve—catch!"

"Shit!" Tony yelped, voice hurtling toward Steve's hunch of shame.

Steve's response was swift and automatic: he looked up, stood up, and caught Tony.

He would _always_ catch Tony.

Who wrapped his naked legs around Steve's hips and wound his arms around Steve's neck.

Bucky was leaning indolently against one of the mirrors, shoes off, but otherwise clothed. His dick was tucked away, but his black slacks and belt were undone, and there was come on his tie and blue, grip-wrinkled dress shirt. By contrast, Tony was positively disheveled. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the vee of his navy blue vest that beautifully accentuated his waist, his wavy hair was adorably mussed, and he was wearing that _look_. Steve was not _prepared_.

Tony slid, and Steve caught him. If he'd dipped any lower, he'd be right on Steve's dick, which would feel good at the moment but be very, very bad long-term. Only then did Steve realize he was cradling Tony's ass, which was warm and fit perfectly in his hands and was partially lube-slick.

Steve froze, heart thundering.

"You know, Steve, you're a difficult man to pin down," Tony said.

The little squeeze and grind he did to demonstrate felt like molten heat pouring down Steve's torso. There was a tingle in his balls that spoke of imminent humiliation.

"You keep running off. We had to get creative."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but then indignation briefly eclipsed Steve's horny mortification. "You've been doing all this on purpose?"

Bucky sighed and draped himself around Tony's back, effectively trapping him in Steve's hold, and slid his fingers through Steve's belt loops. "Peg said you'd need the emotional equivalent of a two-by-four to the head to make a move."

"Imminent death, specifically," Tony added. "And then _we'd_ have to make the move anyway. Not a great plan. We thought we'd move up the timeline."

Bucky snorted and shook his head—at _Steve_ , who hadn't done _anything!_

Although apparently, that was the problem.

"So what we're gonna do now," Bucky said, and kicked Steve's legs out from under him, so he wound up right back in his seat, "is you're gonna kiss Tony, and you're gonna come, and then we're all gonna change into clothes without jizz on 'em, and you're gonna come with me and Tony on a date. Capiche?"

Steve was stunned. They'd been…wooing him? Trying to?

Well, they'd done a piss poor job. Steve opened his mouth to tell them so—

—and Tony kissed him. Licked his agile tongue right into Steve's mouth like he was making mental schematics. Steve felt the shock of banked arousal sweep back stronger than before and couldn't help moaning into Tony's mouth.

Tony ground his bare ass into Steve's lap, and between the drag along his cock, the mind-melting kiss, and Tony's ass in Steve's hands and weight proving this was really happening—Steve really _was_ this lucky—Steve curled around Tony and his orgasm all but punched out of him.

Tony's lips gentled and left Steve's with a fond little nip, but he didn't pull away so much as lean back in Steve's arms against Bucky, who'd reappeared behind Tony, to watch with him as Steve caught his breath.

When Steve saw from the slightly nervous cast to Bucky and Tony's gazes that he'd need to say _something_ , he cleared his throat. "Next time you want me to do something, tell me what it is," he said. "No more of this dog and pony show."

Bucky indulgently stroked Tony's hair. Steve thought Tony looked like the cat that got the cream _and_ the canary _and_ _then_ conned its owner out of the last warm patch of sunlight. When Bucky reached for Steve, however, it was not to stroke his hair. It was to poke him in the forehead, like a jerk. "That goes both ways," Bucky said, just this side of calling Steve a hypocrite. "Communication is a two-way street."

"Uh, _three_ -way street," Tony corrected. "Mostly three-ways from now on, actually. And bridges. Between things. _Huge_ —" he pauses, lips twitching, "— _tracts_ of lowland kinds of things. Three-ways and bridges are very important. Beam and arch, mostly, but truss is fun too." He paused. "For communication, obviously."

Bucky snorted. Steve quirked an eyebrow and waited.

"…And sex."

"There it is," Steve muttered, his annoyed tone belied by the fond quirk of his lips and the way he unconsciously stroked Tony's hip with his thumb.

"Let's put a pin in that for now," Bucky said. "We have a reservation to get to." He stepped around Tony, but instead of walking away, he bent and tilted up Steve's chin. "After I kiss you."

Bucky's kiss was soft at first, a mere press of lips—a short, chaste little thing before he pulled back.

Steve grabbed his collar and dragged him close again, kissed him with all the pent-up longing he'd felt for Bucky since the summer he'd turned sixteen, and Bucky climbed through his window with a puppy even though their ma's feared Steve's cough was contagious. The kiss sounded wet and obscene, and the rhythmic thrusts of Bucky's tongue into Steve's mouth made him groan and clutch Tony tighter to his lap.

The rush of pleasure that coursed through his pelvis, and Tony's low chuckle, shocked him into breaking the kiss—at which point he realized he'd been rocking Tony against him in a slow, even grind and was rapidly getting hard again.

Bucky made an inquisitive hum, then hissed when Tony casually reached back into his slacks and cupped his dick. It looked as hard as Steve's felt.

"God bless super-soldier refractory periods," Tony said with feigned piety before a grin broke through.

"Reservation, Tony," Bucky reminded him, closing a hand around Tony's wrist—but not pushing it away.

Tony looked impishly up at Bucky. "We can be fashionably late. Steve agrees with me, right?"

Steve couldn't say no to that face—and didn't want to.

They had to make a new reservation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the fic! If you did, kudos and comments are the best way to let me know. (Also, I love them.) ^_^ ♥


End file.
